The Blurb (from Goodreads):
Paris, 1923 The daughter of a scandalous mother, Delilah Drummond is already notorious, even amongst Paris society. But her latest scandal is big enough to make even her oft-married mother blanch. Delilah is exiled to Kenya and her favorite stepfather's savannah manor house until gossip subsides. Fairlight is the crumbling, sun-bleached skeleton of a faded African dream, a world where dissolute expats are bolstered by gin and jazz records, cigarettes and safaris. As mistress of this wasted estate, Delilah falls into the decadent pleasures of society. Against the frivolity of her peers, Ryder White stands in sharp contrast. As foreign to Delilah as Africa, Ryder becomes her guide to the complex beauty of this unknown world. Giraffes, buffalo, lions and elephants roam the shores of Lake Wanyama amid swirls of red dust. Here, life is lush and teeming-yet fleeting and often cheap. Amidst the wonders-and dangers-of Africa, Delilah awakes to a land out of all proportion: extremes of heat, darkness, beauty and joy that cut to her very heart. Only when this sacred place is profaned by bloodshed does Delilah discover what is truly worth fighting for-and what she can no longer live without.
My Thoughts:
"Don't believe the stories you have heard about me. I have never killed anyone, and I have never stolen another woman's husband. Oh, if I find one lying around unattended, I might climb on, but I never took one that didn't want taking." As soon as I read these opening lines, I sighed happily, knowing I was going to love this book. Deanna Raybourn is best known for her Lady Julia series of Victorian murder mysteries, and so A Spear of Summer Grass is a new departure for her. Set during the Roaring 20s, it tells the story of the scandalous debutante Delilah Drummond who has caused one scandal too many and so is banished to Kenya. Her voice is pitch-perfect. She’s sassy, cynical, and smart, yet there is a touch of pathos and vulnerability about her which makes her a far more interesting character than you might expect. In Kenya, Delilah gets caught up in the social whirl of the white landowners, makes unexpected friends, takes a lover and falls in love (not with the same man), and finds herself accused of murder. An utterly brilliant book, and one of the most enjoyable reads of the year so far for me.
You might also want to read my review of The Muse by Jessie Burton:
https://kateforsyth.com.au/what-katie-read/vintage-book-review-the-muse-by-jessie-burton
The Blurb (from Goodreads):
in the arts of war and medicine their bond blossoms into something deeper - despite the displeasure of Achilles' mother Thetis, a cruel sea goddess. But then word comes that Helen of Sparta has been kidnapped. Torn between love and fear for his friend, Patroclus journeys with Achilles to Troy, little knowing that the years that follow will test everything they hold dear.
Profoundly moving and breathtakingly original, this rendering of the epic Trojan War is a dazzling feat of the imagination, a devastating love story, and an almighty battle between gods and kings, peace and glory, immortal fame and the human heart.
My Thoughts:
I love Greek myths, and studied the two great Homeric poems ‘The Iliad’ and ‘The Odyssey’ at uni. All I really remember about Achilles, though, was that he was a great hero of the Trojan war, and supposedly invulnerable except for one tiny weak spot - his heel. This is because his mother dipped him in the Styx, the river that separates the land of the dead from the land of the living, when he was only a baby. The only part of his body that remained dry was his heel, which was clasped in her hand. He was later killed by being shot in this heel by a poisoned arrow.
Anyway, I wanted to read this book not because of any great desire to know more about Achilles, but because I had loved Madeline Miller’s novel Circe so much. I found The Song of Achilles just as compelling, powerful and moving (well, almost! Circe is very hard to beat).
Basically, this is a gay love story. It is told from the point-of-view of Achilles’s best friend, Patroclus, beginning when they are only boys and ending with the great, gory, tragic Trojan Wars. Do not be afraid if you do not know much about Troy, or ‘The Iliad’, or ancient Greece. You do not need to. Madeline Miller’s greatness lies in her ability to take these ancient stories of love and war and gods and heroes, and make them real and immediate.
I don’t want to reveal too much of the plot, as it’s impossible to do so without spoiling this heart-breaking and beautiful story. All I really need to say is that Madeline Miller has vaulted into the upper regions of my most beloved authors of all time. I will buy anything she writes, the moment it is published.
You might also like to read my review of Circe by Madeline Miller:
https://kateforsyth.com.au/what-katie-read/circe-by-madeline-miller
The Blurb (from Goodreads):
When Esther Thorel, the wife of a Huguenot silk-weaver, rescues Sara Kemp from a brothel she thinks she is doing God’s will. Sara is not convinced being a maid is better than being a whore, but the chance to escape her grasping ‘madam’ is too good to refuse.
Inside the Thorels’ tall house in Spitalfields, where the strange cadence of the looms fills the attic, the two women forge an uneasy relationship. The physical intimacies of washing and dressing belie the reality: Sara despises her mistress’s blindness to the hypocrisy of her household, while Esther is too wrapped up in her own secrets to see Sara as anything more than another charitable cause.
It is silk that has Esther so distracted. For years she has painted her own designs, dreaming that one day her husband will weave them into reality. When he laughs at her ambition, she strikes up a relationship with one of the journeyman weavers in her attic who teaches her to weave and unwittingly sets in motion events that will change the fate of the whole Thorel household.
My Thoughts:
I was mainly drawn to this book because of the beauty of its cover, and because I knew it was set amongst silk-weavers in London in the 18th century, one of my favourite historical periods.
It tells the story of two young women.
Sara Kemp is tricked into prostitution shortly after her arrival in London. One day she is seen by Esther Thorel, the English wife of a French Huguenot silk weaver, who decides to rescue her. The lives of the two women are then spun together with threads as delicate and yet as strong as silk.
The chapters are short, vivid, and powerful, alternating between the voices of the two women. Esther’s marriage is cold. All she wants is to create beautiful designs to be woven in silk, but her husband will not allow a woman such a significant creative role. She must try and learn in secret, and is helped by a young journeyman weaver. Sara, meanwhile, falls in love.
What follows is betrayal, heartbreak, murder, and tragedy. I found it absolutely riveting.
GET YOUR COPY OF BLACKBERRY & WILD ROSE HEREYou might also like to read my review of Gulliver's Wife by Lauren Chater:
BOOK REVIEW: Gulliver's Wife by Lauren Chater
The Blurb (from Goodreads):
A beautifully illustrated, visually lush and intriguing book about the world's most popular and most powerful flower. The daffodil is the beautiful first flower of spring, the inspiration of poets, a treasure-trove to scientists and a symbol of everything from unrequited love, rebirth, eternal life and misfortune. Over centuries, the daffodil has been so many things to so many people: it was called 'Narcissus' by the Greeks and prized by the Romans as guarantee of passage to the Underworld; it was used by medieval Arabs and ancient Chinese for its medicinal properties and it has inspired poets, lovers, artists and scientists down the ages. But in telling the story of the daffodil, what award-winning, best-selling writer Helen O'Neill is really telling is the story of humanity. It's a narrative of progress from superstition and myth, taking in politics, greed, religion, science, chance, redemption and love. But, appropriately enough for a flower that is now used on a worldwide basis to raise funds for cancer research, it is, above all, a story of hope. Moving, fascinating, eloquent, and also beautiful.
My Thoughts:
I love books which draw together science, art, myth and poetry to illuminate the history of a single object or item. It’s a way to learn about something in depth, and nearly always the book itself is an artefact of beauty.
This is exactly the case with Daffodil: Biography of a Flower by Australian author Helen O’Neill. She examines the history of the daffodil, from the ancient Greek myth of Narcissus and Echo to its most recent life as the international motif for cancer research. Nearly every page is decorated with the most exquisite art and photographs, and the chapters are short and easily digested. This is the kind of book you can dip in and out of at will, learning something fascinating on every page and sharing tidbits with your friends. A really lovely little book.
GET YOUR COPY OF DAFFODIL: A BIOGRAPHY HEREYou might also like to read my review of Wild Places by Robert Macfarlane:
VINTAGE BOOK REVIEW: The Wild Places by Robert Macfarlane
On the 12th July 2018, at five o’clock in the evening, I wrote in my journal:
“I’ve been thinking for a while about writing a book set in the Greek resistance during WWII & our trip to Greece next year seems like a good chance to research it … today, looking for something else, I stumbled upon this amazing photo of women resistance fighters – it could be mother and daughter - & now I’m all excited about the idea! The girl looks so young – the mother so sorrowful.”
For the next few weeks, I read up about Australian soldiers in Greece during the early years of the war. The ANZACs were on the front line, trying to hold back the Nazi invasion in April 1941. They were defeated, and had to retreat in desperate haste to Crete. The Nazis then invaded Crete, thousands of paratroopers dropping from the sky in a bold and unconventional blitzkrieg. For eleven days, the ANZACs and the local Cretans fought a series of bloody battles, but once again the Germans prevailed. The Allied soldiers had to be evacuated in what has been called a second Dunkirk. More than 57,000 soldiers escaped, but 7,000 were captured and became prisoners-of-war.
One of my great-uncles fought in Greece and Crete, and so I have a very personal connection to this harrowing tale of defiance and defeat.
I have also had a long obsession with labyrinths. Crete is, of course, the home of the world’s first and most famous labyrinth, built as a prison for the Minotaur. Half-man, half-bull, the minotaur was a ferocious beast that – every year - devoured seven men and seven maidens sent as sacrifices to the Palace of Knossos. A young prince named Theseus set out to defeat the monster, and was aided in his quest by the princess Ariadne, who gave him a ball of crimson thread so that he could find his way free of the labyrinth.
By the 8th August 2018, I had a strong sense of what kind of story I might tell, but then followed months and months of reading, research, pondering, planning. I filled a notebook with story ideas, brainstormings, timelines, character sketches, and photographs of Cretan resistance fighters.
I cannot start writing a book until I have my first line, and this eluded me for a very long time. I tried out different ideas, but nothing felt right. Then one day I went back and read through my very first thoughts and notes, and found what I needed, written in red so I would know it was important.
At once I had my first line, and that led swiftly and easily to my first page:
‘Red thread bound, in the spinning wheel round, kick the wheel and let it spin, so the tale can begin.’ My grandmother chanted these words to me and my sister Zoey every night as she told us a story, sewing as she spoke, each stitch so even and tiny it looked as if it had been set by a machine. Or a fairy.
My Yia-Yia knew many stories of gods and heroes, giants and nymphs, and the Three Fates who spun the blood-red thread of life. Her stories were not like the pretty Ladybird tales my school-friends read. For example, her Cinderella was named Little Saddleslut. Her sisters decided to kill and eat whoever’s spindle fell to the ground first. Their mother’s spindle fell, and so the eldest daughters struck her dead and ate her. Little Saddleslut buried her mother’s bones and wept over them. When she was in need, she found three gowns buried in the grave, one embroidered with all the stars of heaven, one embroidered with all the flowers of spring, and the last as bright and blue as the sea with all its waves.
I remember being enchanted with the description of these gowns and imagining what they might look like, while Zoey kept asking, ‘but why, Yia-Yia, why did they kill their mummy? Why did they eat her?’
‘It’s just an old story,’ our grandmother comforted her. ‘The mother’s bones are magical and bring the little girl her heart’s desire.’
‘But it is true, Yia-Yia?’ Zoey’s blue eyes were even bigger and rounder than usual.
My grandmother smiled, sighed, shrugged. ‘Lies and truths, this is how tales are, my angel. Now close your eyes and go to sleep.’
I tell you this story about my grandmother, because it all began with her. ‘Find out the truth,’ she begged me, and bound my wrist with red thread to keep me safe, and sent me off to the other side of the world, into unimaginable danger.
How was I to find the truth when I did not know who to trust?
I began writing on the night of the new moon, 24th March 2020, and now one month later I have written almost 20,000 words. It is as if the story is unspooling out of me, urgent to be told.
The narrative will have two strands. The first is the modern-day quest of a young Australian woman to discover the truth of her great-grandparents’ lives on Crete during the Nazi occupation. The second is their story of resistance, which has a bitter betrayal at its heart.
I am only at the beginning at what I know will be a long and challenging journey, but I’m tremendously excited about this book. I’m finding it hard to focus on anything else!
Let the tale begin …
The Blurb (from Goodreads):
Young widow Simonetta tries to rebuild her family in 16th century Saronno, Lombardy. In pursuit of a means to keep her estate together, she stumbles upon a new drink made by infusing almonds into alcohol. At the same time, she encounters the talented Bernardino, the protege of Leonardo da Vinci.
My Thoughts:
What a beautiful book this is! It has everything I love most in fiction – romance, suspense, danger, art, an Italian setting, a fascinating historical time brought vividly to life, and the story behind the creation of something real (in this case, the delicious liqueur made from almonds, Amaretto di Saronno).
I had read a few of Marina Fiorato’s earlier books, and enjoyed them all, but this book feels really special to me. The interweaving plot was so cleverly done, and I felt strongly for all the characters and kept hoping that - against all odds – things would turn out well for them.
Simonetta di Saronno is a young widow, her husband killed in the wars.
Bernardino Luini is a brash young apprentice to Leonardo da Vinci, longing to break free of the studio and do his own paintings.
When he first sees Simonetta, he knows he must paint her.
His pursuit of her – artistically and romantically – leads to all sorts of trouble for them both.
Then there is a second, parallel romantic story.
Amaria is an orphan being raised by a kind woman she calls Nonna.
One day she finds a wild man living rough in the woods. When she tells Nonna, the old woman goes and finds the filthy young man –suffering from some kind of amnesia – and takes him into her own home. The two women care for him and nurse him back to health. Inevitably Amaria and the wild man fall in love, but his past is full of secrets that threaten to destroy not only their happiness, but also that of the young painter and his muse living in Saronno.
Their stories slowly entwine, building to a high pitch of suspense, as religious mania, war, and poverty combine to drive the heroes and heroines to desperate acts.
I loved it! An utterly captivating historical novel of love, war and art.
You might also like to read my review of A Letter from Italy by Pamela Hart:
https://kateforsyth.com.au/what-katie-read/vintage-book-review-a-letter-from-italy-by-pamela-hart
‘May Day Celebration’
An extract from Dragonclaw, Kate’s first published book
(The Witches of Eileanan: Book 1)
One night they cantered up a steep incline to find a blaze of light and movement on the other side. A procession of torches was winding its way along the road towards her and, in a panic, Isabeau urged Lasair off the road and behind a wall, admonishing him to be quiet. In the darkness she crouched, sure the procession was angry villagers or soldiers come to capture her again. Then the cavalcade came closer and she heard laughter and jesting, and saw men and women dancing together and holding hands, crowned with leaves and flowers.
Beltane, she thought with a pang. It is Beltane already, the first of May. She had been riding for over a month.
At the head of the parade danced a tall, thin man, dressed in leafy branches from head to toe. Isabeau peered over the wall in delight. The Green Man...I have always wanted to see the Green Man...
She would have liked to follow the laughing, dancing figures and seen the end of the May Day celebrations, but with a sigh she mounted as soon as they had passed, and set her face to the south again. Later that night she saw another village in the distance and could not resist sidling close to the village square to watch the bonfire and the dancing. They had just crowned the May Queen and were tying up the maypole in honour of her. A feast was spread out on tables in the square and, overcome by a temptation she could not resist, Isabeau crept from tree to tree until the tables were tantalisingly close. She waited until all attention was on the acrobatics being performed in the centre, then dived under the cover of the white cloth. There she lay all night, putting out a dirty hand and pulling whatever her fingers encountered back into her shelter. For the first time in weeks she was able to eat to her heart's satisfaction, watching the show from under her cover and wishing she could dance and laugh like the other girls, but feeling a chasm between them like the Great Divide.
The Blurb (from Goodreads):
London, 1702. When her husband is lost at sea, Mary Burton Gulliver, midwife and herbalist, is forced to rebuild her life without him. But three years later when Lemuel Gulliver is brought home, fevered and communicating only in riddles, her ordered world is turned upside down.
In a climate of desperate poverty and violence, Mary is caught in a crossfire of suspicion and fear driven by her husband’s outlandish claims, and it is up to her to navigate a passage to safety for herself and her daughter, and the vulnerable women in her care.
When a fellow sailor, a dangerous man with nothing to lose, appears to hold sway over her husband, Mary’s world descends deeper into chaos, and she must set out on her own journey to discover the truth of Gulliver’s travels . . . and the landscape of her own heart.
My Thoughts:
I loved Lauren Chater’s debut novel, The Lace Weaver, which was set in Estonia during World War II, and so I was looking forward to seeing what she did next. Gulliver’s Wife is very different, being set in London in the early 18th century. It tells the story of the famous hero of Gulliver’s Travels, an epic satirical novel by Jonathon Swift published in 1726 – except that the story is told from the point of his wife, left at home to care for his family.
I love this premise so much. Women are so invisible in early fiction. The man goes off, has adventures, sees the world, learns what he needs to make his life a triumph. The meek little wife stays home and … does what? The implication is, nothing important.
In this novel by Lauren Chater, it is the women’s stories that matter. The narative moves between the points of view of Mary Gulliver and her teenage daughter, Bess. They both think Gulliver is dead. Mary is quietly relieved, for he was always a feckless dreamer. She sets out to rebuild a new life for herself and her family. She is a trained midwife, and it is this work which will support and sustain them through the financial mess her husband left behind. Bess, however, adored her father. Her grief for him is overwhelming. She blames her mother Mary for driving him away, and wishes he would come back and fulfill his promise of taking her adventuring with him.
Then Gulliver turns up, full of strange tales of wondrous lands. Is he telling the truth, or is he mad?
From this intriguing beginning, Lauren Chater waves a fascinating story of London in the early 1700s. Vivid and immersive, the story is driven by the tension between truth and lies, sanity and madness, love and duty. I particuarly loved the sub-plot of the midwives’ struggle to be allowed to continue with their work at a time when male surgeons sought to replace them with forceps. Highly recommended.
You might also like to read my review of the Lace Weaver by Lauren Chater:
https://kateforsyth.com.au/what-katie-read/vintage-book-review-the-lace-weaver-by-lauren-chater
The Blurb (from Goodreads):
In a remote west-country village, all is not as it seems. The minister's daughters have taken to their bed, howling and spitting pins. Rumours of bad magic and ill-wishing are spreading fast—and fingers are pointing at Nell, the cunning woman's granddaughter.
With Matthew Hopkins, the Witch-Finder General, on his way, Nell is alone, trapped, and in mortal danger. Who can she trust? Who will save her?
My Thoughts:
A dear writer friend told me that I must read this, and so obediently I bought it straightaway. It was great advice, as this is exactly the kind of children’s historical fantasy I love. It is set in a small English village during the English civil war (one of my favourite periods of history!) and tells the story of Nell, who was conceived in the wild mayhem of May Day. In pagan times, this was a day when men and women coupled freely, outside the ties of marriage, and any child born of that union was called a merrybegot. This makes Nell blessed by the fairy folk, even as she spurned by godly folk.
Grace is everything Nell is not. She is the daughter of the new Puritan minister, and is meek, biddable and perfectly behaved. She does not swear, or scramble about gathering herbs from the ditches and hedgerows, or make potions, or see peskies.
A merrybegot and a minister’s daughter – two girls who have nothing in common. And yet when Grace and her little sister start having strange fits, and spitting up pins, and seeing the Devil in the shadows, their fates collide.
I adored this book. The drama and pathos is perfectly tempered with warm flashes of humour, and Nell is a delightful mix of childish mischief and wisdom. I shall definitely be reading more of Julie Hearn.
You Might also like to read my review of Witch Child by Celia Rees:
https://kateforsyth.com.au/what-katie-read/vintage-book-review-witch-child-by-celia-rees
